


Delivery for Mr M Holmes

by wrabbit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: shkinkmeme, F/M, Flowers, Formerly Anonymous, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-20
Updated: 2011-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:38:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrabbit/pseuds/wrabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are flowers on his desk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delivery for Mr M Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism: Welcome

Mycroft was just finishing his dictation to his assistant when he was brought to a stop just inside their shared offices. Anthea, who had been typing at a steady pace since their noon meeting with the personal assistant to the Transport Minister, was forced to halt suddenly in the doorway and interpret "Green..." to mean Green Park after a moment's pause, she closed the file before her employer could finish his thought.

"Ah," she said, looking up at last and instantly finding what had caused the interruption.

Mycroft had shed his jacket and was leaning with one hip against his desk, the forefinger of his left hand outstretched to lift open the card tied to the vase on his otherwise clear desktop. Anthea stepped close, anxious to assess the florist's arrangement herself.

"What is this one?" Mycroft asked, pointing to a heliotrope blossom.

"Devotion," Anthea answered automatically, occupied with scanning the bouquet for faults or omissions.

"And this?" He touched a red daisy petal.

"Beauty unknown to the possessor," she said, watching his face.

Mycroft's hesitation was as good as a blush.

He grazed a windflower with the back of one finger, raising an eyebrow.

"Sincerity," said Anthea.

She opened her phone, smiling in satisfaction as Mycroft continued to stare absently at the flowers on his desk. He could look the rest up himself. "Will you be wanting to read your new messages before we do lunch, sir?" she asked.

"Yes, yes please," he said. "Thank you, Anthea."

She stepped out to fetch the mail, entirely pleased with the quality of the morning's delivery. "You're welcome, sir."


End file.
